As Guards Would Tell It
by roxfox1962
Summary: Divinity 2: Ego Draconis - What are those guards thinking when watching the Slayer being...well, a Slayer? Mind-reading isn't what it used to be... O.o Just my way of exorcising some of the outraged frustration I have experienced while playing this doggonedly addictive game. :p
1. Paul the Village Gate Guard

_So, what did the guards at the village gate think of my failed attempts to leap onto every boulder and tree branch? Who knows. This would be my best guess._

Paul had seen some odd things going on in Broken Valley in his time, and his much coveted post as Broken Valley Village Gate Guard had given him many a queer sight to behold over the years; which he had to admit that he rather enjoyed reminiscing about with the villagers in the local tavern. Since the only one around for him to talk to was _Joris_ day after day after day, no explanation was necessary in justifying his need for a break from the monotony; he _craved_ the unusual.

But the lady in the torn and worn leather armour he spotted not more than a few minutes ago? Well, she took the cake.

At first glance he noticed that the woman seemed to have some difficulty navigating the small cobbled path leading up to the Village Gate. A step, a grunt, followed by an awkward leap straight up in the air with arms swinging and knees bent resulted in another grunt when her feet hit the ground a toenail's distance from where she had first made the attempt to get ahead. Once would have been considered very odd, that. More than a few dozen times was downright_ weird_. Walking (key word being _walking_) a straight line would have made her trip to the village less time-consuming, in his opinion.

Now, standing in front of a wooden gate with a slew of goblins, wild boars and whatnot running amok within a spear's throw wasn't the easiest job in the world, but at least he _could_ throw a spear. And perform one of those fancy schmancy whirly-type jumps while doing so. He wasn't so sure _she_ would be up to the task.

He thought about calling out to her, to warn her of the two goblins ransacking the corpse a little to the left of the bush she was rummaging about in, when out of nowhere popped out not one, but _two_ nasty wild boars. There was no way he was messing around with _those_ lousy, smelly, foul-tempered fiends unless he absolutely _had_ to, so he stepped back against the wall behind him. To watch. Just in case.

His surprise was no less than the foremost boar's when it swallowed a ball of fire a moment later. Then got its brain bashed in with a clumsy swipe from an old, rusty mace. The second boar didn't get the good luck to be internally incinerated before the bashing started. It took quite a beating before it finally gasped its last bloody breath. Paul felt rather sorry for the poor little bugger.

He was about to step away from the gate once the immediate threat of wild boars was over, but stayed his feet when he spotted her trotting over to the corpse still being goblin-handled. By two goblins, no less. With long, sharp swords. A few minutes later, once the screaming (on her part) and running around in circles (led by her) was done, he witnessed another of those amazing fireball to the mouth tricks, and more grisly mace-bashing of heads. Only then did she finally decide to approach the Village gate; which was when he espied the silvery eyes, causing a cold chill to run up and down his spine. His throat tightened up, and his mouth became very, very dry.

_A Slayer_.

He turned quickly to Joris, to shush the idiot up before he could open that damn fool mouth of his. But too late.

"Good day, Dragon Slayer." Joris chirped a greeting to her. "Welcome to Broken Valley!"

Those silver eyes glanced at Joris for a moment. Whether she was going to return the greeting or not would always remain a mystery, as she was suddenly distracted by several bunnies innocently hopping around her leather boots and sniffing at the blood dripping from her mace. Her head turned left, then right. She spun around and stared at the ground, then raised the mace high over her head, and swung down._ Hard_. From where he stood Paul could hear the _splat_ followed by a faint yet high-pitched squeak.

"Damn rodents," she snarled, kicking at the brown and bloody bundle of fur lying lifeless at her feet. "The infestation stops here!"

Paul almost blurted out a warning about The Legend of the Giant Rabbit, until he gave it a second thought. Who was he to stop a Dragon Slayer from slaying? He nodded his greeting, and let her pass into the village.

She'd learn soon enough not to be messing with the bunnies.


	2. Quincy the Abandoned Guard

_Then there's this poor guy. My Level 1 Slayer dashed by him countless times trying to escape the goblin shamans, goblin chiefs, Beholders and everything else, without even noticing that man on the watchtower waving at her._

_And...**OMG! Thank you, Abydos Jackson! You are Divine**! :D_

It was hot. And dry. And beginning to look like the longest day of his - like as not - soon to be muchly shortened life. There was some good yet an awful lot of bad in the latter part of that realization. He glared at the evil beasts marching around on the ground, impeding his escape from the watchtower. Fecking_*****_ goblins!

Quincy tried squinting at the cloudless sky to judge the position of the sun, but the orb's brilliance was too much for his eyes to bear. Was it still morning? Or past high noon? An hour or two of his Broken Valley Village Guard Recruit training had been dedicated towards explaining how to tell the time of day without the use of a sundial; too bad no-one had thought to warn him of the potential risk of sun-burnt eyeballs! When his mam went on about him going blind, it had nothing to do with the sunlight. More like about stuff happening alone in the dark.

Though Carl Jackson's farm was naught but a few minutes walking distance from the village, Quincy cursed himself for not having had the sense to bring along a flask of wine or water, for an emergency such as this. His mam had always told him to be prepared, but how was he supposed to know to be prepared for a cowardly guard, a goblin shaman and a fecking horde of goblins? Okay. Maybe there were only three goblins all told, but the shaman was three goblins inserted into one body by itself! Making them a horde, to be sure. And then there was that coward (may he rot in jail for an eternity) Peavey running off, leaving Quincy to fend for himself against this (admittedly small) horde. Damn that Peavey!

Not only did he now have a skull-splitting headache and was seeing odd coloured spots on everything, Quincy was positive the stream flowing by his watchtower refuge was _chortling,_ as if it looked forward to watching his demise. About to raise his fist and curse at the curiously entertained brook, he became aware of a human in leather armour, holding a club or somesuch, jogging up and down the beaten path on the other side of the giant beech tree that stood too far away to offer shade. A girl from the shape of her, and within shouting distance. Or so he thought.

He yelled. He hollered. He screamed until he thought he'd permanently lose his voice. Hearing some sort of cackling which sounded suspiciously a lot like laughter coming from the goblins, Quincy was inspired to jump up and down while waving his arms about like a madman, hoping to catch the girl's attention. To no avail - he watched her jog by over and over again. What the _feck_!? Was she blind _and_ deaf? What kind of crazy person sold armour and weapons to a blind and deaf person? Oh. Yeah. He'd forgotten how low the dodgy merchants in Broken Valley would stoop for a coin or two. The _bastards_! Selling hope to some poor sightless, hearing-impaired fragile thing like her!

When the girl finally strolled over in the general direction of the watchtower, he watched as her neck craned upward. Though he knew his mind was becoming foggy from lack of water and too much sunlight, he still had to rub his eyes to make sure his vision wasn't completely damaged. Was she really staring at the giant beech tree? How could that be, her being blind and all? He began shouting anew, but she _still_ didn't look his way. Well, maybe she _wasn't_ totally blind, but she was _definitely_ deaf, poor lass.

After circling the tree a couple of times, the girl spotted something at the base of the watchtower that made her curious. Peeking down he grimaced. That empty sack had been sitting there for as long as he remembered. But who was he to judge? If the Divine Spirit whom he'd been praying to was hiding out in an musty, old potato bag, then so be it! Just as she stepped up to inspect the sack, he let out one final, desperate shout. And she heard him! Leaping lizard, she wasn't deaf after all! Divine be praised! Grinning like silly git, he opened his mouth to call down to her, to explain the direness of the predicament he was in when..._wham_! It was as if a sledgehammer implanted itself into his head, and memories of his entire _life******_ flashed before his eyes. The pain passed as quickly as it had arrived, thank the Divine; the girl's timing was impeccable, as he didn't think he could last much longer. He gave his head and shoulders a shake to get rid of the unexpected affliction, and shouted, "Trapped. Goblins stole grappling hook. Need grappling hook." Or summat.

The next few minutes were a blur, due to the waving daisies, bobbing peonies, and dancing marigolds swirling around his aching head. Who knew flowers were so sparkly, mesmerizing, and _lively_?_** *****_

Quincy beamed when the grappling hook was thrown up. A moment later he stood on the ground facing his savior, and gazed into her milky eyes. Silver eyes! A Dragon Slayer! Yes! He immediately explained the need for her to go to the Village Guard Barracks and expose the villainous coward (Peavey) who'd left him high and dry, before he himself ran back to the village - dehydrated, starving, hallucinating and all - eager to boast of the deeds of his new-found hero.

Then watch Peavey rot in prison for all eternity.

_*Fecking/feck=lovely words learned from the inimitable Irish 'lady', Agnes Brown (as in 'Mrs Brown's Boys') on BBC. Heh._

_**Mind-reading Quincy costs 400 experience points and gives 1 stat point! Whuh?_

_***Hey, it's Valentine's Day as I write/post this. Bite me._


End file.
